travel

­­­ You’ve probably heard of “culture shock,” that initial wallop when everything’s different. Some folks, like Debbie Stephens, hit a wall when they’ve “bathed and washed my hair in a bucket… eaten with monkeys, been roommates with scorpions… and eaten foods

If you’ve always dreamed of visiting the Taj Mahal or Eiffel Tower, check out these bucket lists ruined by real images: Or on second thought, don’t – why kill the dream? I enjoyed this post, though, because my own experience in

This was a long winter. The night snuck in early, and stayed overtime. The snow piled, snow on snow, and I would complain–except I can’t, because Boston. No one got as much snow as Boston (as they like to remind us). And

I sometimes think that as an anthropologist, I should be better at understanding our place in the world, the people I live among, and how they dwell in this place. Yet with every move, I’m surprised by what I don’t expect. Warning–this

In 1861, Lotte Fischer crossed the Atlantic on a steamship that likely took seventeen days to travel from Bremen to New York. She reported that she was a German girl, travelling alone. Within a few years, she married a German

I’m not only amazing, but I’ve got amazing friends –and I’d like to share more about what they’ve been doing. Ersatz Expat writes great blog posts for expatriates, and Alexandra Sutton promotes entrepreneurship in Africa. Cool stuff, and you can read more

I’ve just returned from a trip to south Kazakhstan over the May holidays. Above is my favorite photo from the trip, a shot of the hillside carved away at the ruins of Otyrar. If you imagine a nice big mud-brick

On the train: It’s a frosty-paned holiday weekend, but I start reading another obscure academic article. A curve in the track throws me against Anne’s padded elbow, as I read an article about how orthodox priests direct almsgiving in post-Soviet

“You want to be a writer? Schopenhauer said that you must not seek to be the most famous artist, you must just become the best that you can be. To draw the sound of flowers,” Mathéo says, clenching his fist